Threepart Harmony
by LadyNightRunner
Summary: Sometimes that one chance waltzes in and out of the room without a word.  Sometimes it blows up a paper bag and makes it explode behind you. And sometimes it's standing on stage, reading lines from a play. And all you have to do it get up and follow it.


Some of you probably read the story _Reading the Signs_. Some of you may have even begged me to write more. This, ladies and gents, is the second installment in that universe. The working title was Adorkable, which didn't seem right for the final title but had to be shared with you because it is in fact still applicable.

I know people in my classes who had children before they graduated high school. I know people who are having children now, or getting married, or both. I'm not a kid anymore- I'm at the age acceptable for having kids of my own. And I will, one of these days. But not yet. I don't think I could handle having a child and going to school at the same time. But one of our characters here has that strength. And the other...well, he's going something. I'll leave you to decide just what it is he has.

Peace and love, my dears. And don't forget to dance in the rain now and again.

* * *

><p>In the fall of Demyx's junior year in college, he had everything he felt he could ever want.<p>

To begin with, he had recently turned twenty-two, thereby gaining proper access to his trust fund instead of the monthly stipend he had been receiving since his sixteenth birthday. He had never been one for spending in excess, but he _did_ believe in having the best of what he did want, so he splurged on instruments and music and decent food.

He had the perfect car, a lovingly maintained 1966 Volkswagen microbus, painted a rich shade of turquoise with white roof, white accents, and hand-painted musical notes and staff rolling over it. The rear seats had been removed, leaving plenty of space for a bed/couch hybrid and a couple of storage lockers for spur-of-the-moment trips out of town, and he had had an excellent sound system installed.

He had a fantastic home. A year and a half in the university dorms and another semester in the campus apartments (the older ones, all of which had radiation shelter signs still painted on them) had him shying away from anything remotely resembling communal living, so he had found a house, a strange little place in one of the old, old neighborhoods south of the university. Whoever had built it had decided to combine a traditional stone cottage sort of look with the bungalow style, resulting in a small house with outer walls constructed out of river stone with some form of climbing vine covering two sides and dark shingles on the roof. There was one large room that served as kitchen, living area and dining room, with an office, closet, pantry and bedroom with attached bathroom all together in a block to one side. A steep staircase led up on top of the block, where a railing turned the otherwise useless space into a loft with sloping sides and two skylights. There was a basement as well, which Demyx used as a practice space to avoid irritating his neighbors, and a disproportionately large back yard full of old trees and plants that had probably been very orderly at some point but were now in a state of lively chaos. He put up a couple of hammocks, mowed the lawn now and then, and generally let it all keep on keeping on.

He had a great education. His parents had made sure that, as a child, he had attended only the best schools and spent his afternoons in the finest after school programs. He had gone to a fancy private junior high, and then a very well known high school. His musical ability had netted him several scholarships, though he had turned most of them down in favor of the small one that brought him to his current university. He had been in the marching band for a year, and then joined a small campus band when their guitarist had graduated. He had a strange schedule, as most of the music education majors did, but saw nothing wrong in all but living in the music center at least three days a week. It was all leading up to getting to teach music for the rest of his life, and that was good enough.

Finally, he had a hot boyfriend. Axel was…almost everything Demyx had ever imagined in a partner when he was in high school and still mostly keeping his sexuality under wraps. He was ridiculously tall and flexible, pierced and tattooed with wild hair and a devilish grin. He was a little too skinny, but he had a big frame and Demyx appreciated the slightly unusual, almost feminine silhouette it gave him. Demyx loved the way he could quote from movies and plays on command, loved the way his long, bony fingers carded through Demyx's hair when they sat together, loved the way he liked to drizzle honey into a spoon and suck on it while he worked. And he loved the sex. But he didn't love _Axel_, not in the way he was fairly sure you were supposed to love a partner. Thankfully Axel wasn't the sort to go for professions of undying love or anything like that, so Demyx didn't feel too guilty about the situation.

In late February, Axel somehow managed to talk Demyx into attending a reading of a new play one of the theatre groups was thinking about doing. Muttering, Demyx rescheduled curry night and let Axel tug him across campus to one of the reading rooms in the English building. He slouched in a creaky seat, resigned to what was probably going to be a long, boring reading from some play he wouldn't go see.

Five people filed into the half circle of chairs set up at the front of the room. Four of them looked more or less like they should be there, but the fifth one, standing right in the middle of the arc, couldn't have been more out of place if he'd tried. He was short, 5'6" if he was lucky, with a lot of slate colored hair hanging over one eye. It was somewhere between sleek and shaggy, a strange, jagged darkness against his pale cheek. His one visible eye was a remarkably bright shade of blue. While the other readers were casually dressed, not a one of them wearing anything more presentable than a short-sleeved button-up shirt, the man in the middle was wearing neatly pressed grey slacks, dressy shoes, and a long-sleeved button-up shirt with the cuffs rolled up several times.

"Where did _he_ come from?" Demyx whispered to Axel. "Do you guys usually kidnap people from the business complex for readings?"

"Dunno who he is, but he looks like he knows what he's doing."

"He's cute." Demyx would never have said that if he hadn't already known Axel didn't mind hearing how someone else was looking. "Just…small. Wow."

"Looks about…eh, five four."

Then the reading began, and Demyx promptly forgot to pay attention to anything else.

As a musician, Demyx had an ear for tone and pitch and other such subtle nuances. He picked them up in speech as well as in music, and he could appreciate a good voice. The little academic in the middle chair didn't just have a good voice; he had the voice of an angel, smooth and cultured with a hint of an accent Demyx couldn't place, a lovely cool, deepish tenor. He wondered what it would sound like when the man spoke of things he loved, or how it might change when raised in passion. How would he sing? How would he whisper, or cry out, or laugh?

It was only after the reading was over and Axel was nudging him in the ribs that Demyx was aware of his surroundings again.

"Did you learn to sleep with your eyes open and not tell me about it?" Axel teased, leaning down to kiss the tip of Demyx's nose.

"What?"

"You totally zoned out for the whole performance."

"No, I…I dunno what happened. Heard something I liked and I was just…_gone_."

"Better than you falling asleep and snoring, I guess. Come on, sexy, I'm starving. Let's hit up Loco Luis's before it closes."

Demyx kept one eye peeled for the unknown little actor for the next few weeks, and it wasn't until he strayed even further down campus than his music-building refuge that he had any luck.

There was an open field of green grass and scattered trees on the overlarge median that separated the two main buildings that housed the collective departments that made up what Demyx usually referred to as the 'cowboy college'. It was not at all uncommon to see an adult or three and a small horde of children down there in the shade, and Demyx rarely paid them any mind. One afternoon, however, he caught sight of a faintly familiar head of slate-colored hair and had to go down and investigate.

Sure enough, the mystery reader was there, holding a small girl in his lap while a second transferred pink hair clips from her hair to his. He was smiling and looked relaxed.

Demyx's insides melted. That _smile_. He'd never seen anything like it. He wanted to be the cause of it. He wanted…god, he just _wanted_.

Something tugged at his pant leg, and he looked down to find a little boy attached to his jeans, looking up at him with wide brown eyes and a gap-toothed smile.

"Uh…hi there."

"Thassa geetar," the boy said knowingly. "Yer a rock star!"

"Yeah, kind of," Demyx laughed.

"Play something!" The child's demand caught the attention of several other children playing nearby, and they rushed over to repeat it, instantly eager for a new wonder.

Unable to say no to six pairs of hopeful eyes and six wide smiles, Demyx took his guitar out of the case and sat down with it in his lap. Other children noticed and ran over, followed by their caretakers and- yes!- the sexy stranger. Demyx grinned and began to play, and shortly after Waltzing Matilda and Knick-nack-paddy-whack, the stranger smiled at him. He completely missed his next class.

The stranger's name was Zexion, and he spent two hours with Miss Molly's class of five to seven year-old's every Tuesday and Thursday from one to three.

Demyx began spending the time between one and two-thirty with the same class, playing his guitar or one of several other instruments for the kids, or playing soccer and Simon Says and Red Rover with them. The helpers welcomed his presence and the calming effect his music could have at the end of the play sessions. Sometimes, he even got to speak with Zexion.

By the end of March, Demyx was smitten. He dreamed about Zexion; he even had _those_ sorts of dreams, and he had accidentally almost said Zexion's name while Axel sucked him off, which would have ended in disaster had it actually happened.

Zexion was just…_mmm_. Small but not skinny, all that thick dark hair and the beautiful blue eyes and the way he smiled when he was lying in the grass, clothes rumpled and grass in his hair and a few pink barrettes clipped to him.

Demyx was not, however, stupid, nor was he a greedy man, so he wound up sitting with Axel in the coffee shop near his house, feeling sick and sweaty and horrible. Axel sat across from him, sipping slowly at an espresso.

"Ax?" Demyx said softly, throat dry.

"Mmm?"

"I want…there's…there's someone else."

Axel blinked at him, surprise written all over his face.

"What?"

"There's someone else I like. I…I want to break up."

"I…I see."

"I'm sorry, I just-" Axel held his hand up, silencing Demyx.

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long have you felt this way?"

"About a month."

Axel finished his espresso and stood up. "I see. Good luck with whoever it is, I guess."

"That's…that's _it_?"

"What else do you want? You've been with me and completely distracted for a month. I'm not gonna get all upset or anything; It's been pretty obvious."

Demyx, who had been under the impression he'd been doing a good job of keeping his crush a secret, gaped at him. "It has?"

"Sure has. Thanks for the coffee."

And Axel was gone. Demyx sat at the table and stared into his cup until the coffee had gone cold and the urge to cry had faded. Then he got up and left quietly for home. When he didn't feel like such a sleaze, he'd try asking Zexion out.

It took several weeks before Demyx could look at Zexion and not feel at least a little guilty. When he could, however, he skipped class on Tuesday and hung around after the kids had gone, then casually approached Zexion just as the man was picking up his messenger bag and preparing to leave.

"Zexion?"

"Yes?" He dusted grass off himself and plucked dandelions out of the buttonholes on his coat.

"I was wondering…if maybe you'd like to come to dinner with me sometime this week? I'd like to actually talk to you when there aren't a bunch of kids around and I don't have to worry about explaining something they're too young to know."

Zexion considered him for a minute, still straightening his clothes out and tidying himself up. "That might be nice." A wry smile curled his lips up in a brief curve. "I'm so busy that I rarely get to carry on casual conversations these days. What did you have in mind?"

"Have you been to Café Eclipse? It's off of Main Street, across from the park, in the downtown area."

"I can't say I have."

"It's pretty nice. Food's good and it's quiet. Would that work?"

"Sounds fine. When and what time?"

"Say…um…I've got band practice, and then…er…Thursday at six? Are you free then?"

"I am." Zexion flashed him a quick but genuine smile. "I'll see you there, then."

"Uh…yeah. Yeah."

He did the victory dance to end all victory dances once Zexion had vanished into one of the Ag buildings.

On Thursday at six fifteen, Demyx was sitting on the edge of a big concrete planter outside Café Eclipse, fiddling with his collar. He had made an effort to clean himself up, showering after class and running a bit of gel through his hair- less than usual, to give it a slightly softer, more natural look- then wriggling into fitted black jeans and a plain white t-shirt, shrugging a long-sleeved green shirt on over it, hoping to find a comfortable medium between casual and cleaned up. He had even made sure he had no picks or other musical equipment in his pockets, which was a rare occurrence.

Zexion was late, and he was getting worried. Maybe Zexion was straight, or sick, or just not interested, or maybe he'd been in a car accident and was on his way to the hospital or maybe he was-

"Demyx!" a small voice shrieked. Demyx looked up to see one of the girls from Miss Molly's class running towards him, pigtails flying. Her name was Melody, she had recently turned five years old, and she was one of Demyx's favorite kids in the class. He just had no idea what she was doing at the café.

"Hey, squirt! What are you doing here?"

"Beth said she couldn't come watch movies with me, so Daddy said he'd bring me and I could have dinner with you!" She hugged him around the knees, grinning with the kind of bright-eyed, completely overpowering excitement that children of that age were given to.

Demyx smiled down at the dark curls and big green eyes, happy to see her twice in one day. "And who's…uh…hi, Zexion."

"Melody, he can't get up if you don't let go of his legs," Zexion chided, stepping up onto the sidewalk. Melody peeled herself off Demyx and flung herself at his legs instead. He neatly sidestepped and let her grab his arm. "I'm sorry we're late. The babysitter couldn't make it and I was trying to schedule another one, but there wasn't a- Demyx? Are you alright?"

"Did she just call you _Daddy_?"

"She did."

"She's…she's…"

"My daughter?"

Dumbstruck, Demyx got to his feet and started towards the door. "They…they saved us a table," he mumbled. "No problem getting another chair."

"In a minute." Zexion picked Melody up and sat her on the edge of the planter Demyx had just vacated. "Melody, I want you to sit here for a minute. Don't pick the flowers."

"Whyyyyyyyy?"

"Because I need to have a grown-up talk with Demyx for a minute. Why don't you count all the petals on that purple flower there while I'm gone?"

"Okay."

Zexion took Demyx by the sleeve and gently pulled him just out of earshot of Melody, who was doing as he had suggested and loudly counting each petal on a massively fluffy purple chrysanthemum.

"Is there something wrong?" Zexion asked, voice pitched low to keep it from carrying.

"I-I-I…she's your _daughter_?"

"She's certainly not my sister."

"But…but you're-"

"Not old enough?" Zexion snorted. "I'm twenty-four in a few months. That's plenty old enough to have a child."

"But she's _five_, and-"

"And she was made on the night of my eighteenth birthday. See? Still old enough to have a daughter her age."

Demyx tried to say several things at once and wound up just swallowing them all and sighing quietly.

"Right. Sorry, I just…"

"You thought you were asking a single man out to dinner because you can't flirt with him when you're both knee-deep in children and now you think you're actually having dinner with a straight married man?"

Demyx nodded dumbly, already too shocked to really register that Zexion had in fact known _exactly_ what he was up to.

"I am still a single man. I'm just a single gay father instead of a single man with no attachments."

_That_ got Demyx's attention. "Gay? But you have a kid. And you even said that she's _yours_ yours."

"I was very drunk and let a friend of a friend attempt to 'turn me straight', as it were. I'm not sure which horrified me more the next day, the fact that I had gotten drunk and slept with anyone, or the fact that I had slept with a woman. I knew about Melody, but I wasn't a part of her life until she was almost a year old."

"Why?"

"Her mother didn't want to admit to sleeping with a gay man in the first place, and didn't want to be tied to me. But she had an opportunity to go to a very good school and she didn't want to take Melody with her, so…" Zexion sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, revealing his whole face to Demyx for the first time ever. It was small and heart shaped and very much like Melody's. "I got a phone call and a series of letters, and the next thing I knew, I was living in family housing with a baby I had never met who was crying for her mother, and there were papers in my desk naming me her sole guardian. Ashley thought it was best to just give up all claim on her."

"Oh. I…wow. Just…I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I dunno, all of it? Sounds kind of harsh, to have all that dumped on you."

"It was, at the time. But I'm happy. And Melody is a wonderful child." He smiled again, in a way that made Demyx stomach knot up. "So are we going to have dinner or not? I haven't done any shopping otherwise, so it's this or a drive through somewhere before the little one starts to get cranky."

"Oh, right, yeah, let's just…go inside. I forgot. Sorry." He started towards the planter again, where Melody had reached thirty-seven petals and was almost finished counting. He felt a little dizzy, trying to take it all in, and he almost didn't stop when Zexion grabbed his sleeve again. When he turned back, Zexion was looking up at him, expression soft.

"I'm still available, you know," he said quietly. "Having a child doesn't mean I'm not interested. It just means I can't do spur-of-the-moment dates."

Oh. _Oh_. Zexion was interested in _him_. That was good news. Really good. Good enough to make Demyx grin at him. "I can't really do that either," he admitted. "Band practice and everything. But I can babysit and take my payment in dates." Maybe he was pushing it. Maybe not.

Zexion laughed and started towards Melody. "I may have to take you up on that. She hates sitting in the greenhouse or the lab when I have to work late, and it can be hard to find a babysitter on a weeknight."

"Then I'm your man."

"Alright, 'my man'. Let's get Melody before she finishes that flower and starts wondering what I'm up to."

It was the strangest, slowest courtship Demyx had ever been involved in. Zexion was a graduate student in a plant genetics lab, but on top of that he worked random shifts for the event center on campus and did freelance editing work. Around tax season, he did taxes as well. Anything to pay the bills and avoid taking out student loans. It was hard to get time with him between his schedule and Demyx's, though Demyx was usually the one making concessions in order to see him. Band practice was not quite as important as another six hours on a time card.

When they did manage to meet up without Melody (Demyx arranged a group of friends who could keep an eye on her. Her favorites were Saix, who often set her in an equipment case with his iPod and let her watch episodes of My Little Pony while he worked, and Luxord, who taught her to play Go Fish and then taught her how to bet goldfish crackers on the winner of each game), Zexion was usually tired, but he was always willing to have a cup of coffee or a quick meal or a quiet stroll in the park with Demyx.

On the days when Melody was with them, they went to movies, to plays, to music events, and to the carnival. Demyx just happened to have mentioned to some friends that they were going to be there on the night of the carnival, so Melody went on the merry go round with Saix's roommate, Larxene, while Demyx and Zexion had their first proper kiss on the Ferris wheel. Afterwards both Melody and Zexion spent the night at Demyx's house, but only because the last ride on The Hammer had made Zexion sick and he had fallen asleep in the car on the way home, so Demyx just kept him until the next morning.

It wasn't easy, and it wasn't typical, but Demyx wouldn't have given it up for anything.

When summer rolled around, Demyx expected Zexion's schedule to ease up. It didn't. Since the event center had nothing to do in the summer except for one massive music event in July, he picked up a part-time job at a local bookstore and took on more editing work. He had no classes, but there was still work to do in the greenhouse and the lab as well.

Demyx was more than a little annoyed. Instead of saying so or complaining, he began plotting.

Rain was threatening on the morning of the last Friday of June. Demyx scowled at the dark clouds and finished getting a few things together. Then he headed for the apartment complex Zexion lived in, stopping to pick up Saix's other roommate- Xaldin, who was Melody's 'Mr. Fuzzy Face' no matter how many times he tried to get her to call him something else- and two cups of coffee. Thus armed with caffeine, a huge hairy man, and a cheese Danish, he knocked at Zexion's door.

As he'd hoped, Zexion answered the door half-awake and yawning, mostly dressed for work but without one of the bookstore shirts on yet.

"Hey gorgeous," Demyx purred, scooting Zexion out of the way and distracting him with kisses while Xaldin tiptoed inside and vanished down the hall to find Melody.

"Mmmhi," Zexion managed, half twined around Demyx before he remembered himself. "Wait, no, I have to finish getting ready. I haven't even- mmph!" He went momentarily cross-eyed when Demyx stuffed a corner of the Danish into his mouth.

"Got it covered," he laughed.

"Bye Daddy!" Melody giggled, waving to Zexion over Xaldin's shoulder as he carried her out the door and down the stairs. He had a little pink suitcase in one hand and Melody's backpack over one shoulder.

Zexion choked on the Danish. Demyx took it back while he coughed and tried to speak.

"Where is he taking her?"

"To his place. He and Saix are babysitting."

"But…but we don't have a date today. I have- mmph!"

The Danish went back in. Demyx pushed a cup of coffee into Zexion's free hand and took the work shirt out of his other hand, which he kissed before carrying the shirt towards Zexion's bedroom.

"What are you doing?" Zexion demanded, following him.

"Packing you an overnight bag."

"For _what_?"

"A surprise."

Zexion finished his breakfast and attempted to stop Demyx while Demyx quickly packed a backpack of clothes and toiletries. When he'd finished, he handed the bag to Zexion.

"Put this on."

Too startled to ask why, Zexion did, then was abruptly scooped up and slung over Demyx's shoulder in a fireman's carry. He kicked and struggled and demanded an explanation, but Demyx didn't say a thing to him until they were downstairs and Zexion had been dropped into the passenger seat in Demyx's microbus.

"We, my overworked little darling, are going on a little trip. Melody is in the care of two overgrown teddy bears and the woman who keeps them both in line, and they've got their schedules worked around her. Your work schedule has also been screwed with, because I am a devious schemer and got you time off with pay for a couple of days. I also had a friend edit a couple of your papers so you don't miss a deadline, and talked someone else into doing your watering." He didn't mention that Zexion had time off with pay because he'd been there on the days Zexion wasn't, working without pay to earn roughly what Zexion would have been making while he was gone, nor that he had paid the friend who had done the editing. The point was that Zexion had several days completely free of work or fatherly obligation.

"But I _can't_," Zexion insisted.

"Of course you can. I covered all your bases. Here, I got you another coffee. With sugar this time."

They were well out of town and off on some backcountry highway more than an hour later when Zexion, who had been dozing in spite of the two cups of coffee, sneezed himself awake. Sniffling, he thanked Demyx for the box of tissues passed over to him and blew his nose twice before curling back into his seat. He was still sniffling, so Demyx put the tissue box on the dash.

"Where are we going, exactly?"

"No clue."

"You have to have some idea."

"East. More or less, anyway. Not due east, but as close as this highway is gonna get us."

Zexion gave Demyx a skeptical look. "That's it? Just 'east'?"

"Do I need more than that?"

"Of course."

"Like what? I have an atlas of the entire USA and road maps of this state and all the ones surrounding it. We've got a bed, a full tank of gas, an extra can of it just in case, food, water, and a direction to drive in. What else do we need, really?"

"I…" Zexion sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're really doing this, aren't we? We're just driving off into the sunrise and hoping to find something interesting?"

"Uh-huh."

"Because you think I'm overworked?"

"No, because I _know_ you're overworked and I'm seeing you even less now than I did last semester, which wasn't much to begin with. I think we both deserve a little break and some one-on-one." Demyx grinned at him. "There's a town about half an hour up the road where we can pick up anything I missed. Think of anything?"

"Cold medicine," Zexion said at last. "Honey, if you don't have it. And marshmallows."

"Cold medicine?"

"I was trying to tell you on the way out the door. If you'd been listening you would have heard me." He sniffled again and reached for the tissue box. "I'm getting sick."

Of course. He finally had a few days with his boyfriend and said boyfriend had to be sick. _Fine_, dammit. He could work around that.

"Then I'll do all the driving and I won't keep you up too late or wear you out," he teased. "And you can get better faster because you'll be relaxed."

"Does _anything_ discourage you?"

"Not really, no."

Zexion sighed. "Must be nice to be so carefree," he mumbled.

"I'm not carefree, Zex," Demyx corrected. "I just…I try not to worry. I know things'll work out in the end, even if it takes awhile. No sense in panicking and trying to fix it- I'll just get in the way like that."

"You certainly panicked when you found out about Melody," Zexion pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but that was a different kind of panic, y'know? That was an 'ohmygod I totally asked a straight guy out' panic, not a 'ohgod I screwed up big time how do I fix this' kind of panic. And maybe a little 'I totally ruined the best relationship I'd ever had to chase a false lead' too."

Zexion looked up rather sharply. "You did _what_?"

"Huh?"

"What you just said. You ruined a relationship to flirt with me?"

"Oh. Uh…it's not important. It's nothing. Really." Demyx stopped looking Zexion's way and focused on the road, neck and ears very red.

"If it mattered enough for you to bring it up, I'd say it's pretty important," Zexion said quietly. "What happened?"

"Do we really have to do this now?"

"Yes."

"Come _on_, Zex, we're supposed to be relaxing, not bringing up the past."

"I will be more capable of relaxing if you explain yourself now. Or I can worry and fret and fuss myself into being even sicker than I already am, if you prefer."

Demyx had seen Zexion worry himself sick once- while he was finishing with taxes, which had been brought to him late and needed to be done several days before they'd arrived. It had not been pleasant.

"No, don't, it's just…I broke up with my boyfriend when I finally decided to try and ask you out for dinner."

"Why?"

"Because all I could think about was you and it doesn't seem right to be imagining someone different when you're with your partner, y'know? So I told him that I liked someone else and…that was it. He said he'd noticed something was off, before I told him, so he was kind of expecting it I guess. And then I waited a couple of weeks, and I asked you."

"And what if it hadn't worked out? What would you have done?"

"I…" Demyx was silent for a moment, the unfinished reply hanging n the air between them. Then he shrugged. "I dunno. Locked myself in my basement and played until my fingers bled, maybe. Tried to cook and eat my way into feeling better than worthless. Something stupid and dramatic and ultimately self-harming like that." He smiled very faintly. "I'm kind of dumb that way, I guess."

"And I like you anyway." Zexion reached over and laid his hand on Demyx's bare arm, fingers shifting to trace little circles on the tanned skin. "I'm glad you left him. And I'm glad you asked me."

Demyx was forced to pull over and all but smother Zexion in enthusiastic kisses for that.

Late that evening, after dinner at a little diner in the tiny town they had driven through just before sunset, the bus was parked in a spot at a campground in the middle of the forest somewhere and Zexion was arguing about sleeping arrangements.

"But-"

"I brought you pajamas!" Demyx cut in.

"But-"

"We've been dating for three months and I've only seen you take your _shirt _off _twice_!"

"But I-"

"And I have pajamas too. Don't make me sleep in the driver's seat."

"I wasn't going t-"

"You'll be warmer with me- no heaters when the engine's off."

"But _Demyx_-"

"Please?" Demyx fixed Zexion with a pleading, wide-eyed look.

"Oh, but…dammit, why can't I say _no_?" Zexion moaned. He took the pajamas Demyx had been brandishing at him and began to undress, then stopped when he realized Demyx had settled down on the bed and was watching him. "This is not a free show, you know."

"Oh? I can shove a few bucks into your boxers if you want me to. And I bought you dinner. Doesn't that entitle me to a little reward?"

"I don't _wear_ boxers," Zexion sniffed, throwing his shirt at Demyx's head and using the moment of near-privacy to get the enormous university t-shirt on. He attempted to wriggle out of his jeans without letting Demyx see anything, but the shirt got rucked up under his arm on one side, giving Demyx a perfect view of…green bikini underwear.

Demyx burst out laughing.

"They're _practical_!" Zexion said defensively, throwing the jeans at Demyx as well and pulling on a pair of faded flannel pajama pants.

"Demyx rolled around on the bed, laughing until he couldn't breathe.

Dressed, Zexion scowled down at him. "I fail to see what's so funny," he said acidly.

"They're so _cute_!" Demyx howled.

"My underwear are not _cute_."

"They aaaaarrrrrre!"

"Will you just get up and let me into the bed, please?"

Demyx did more than that. He got up, changed into his own pajama pants, and went to fetch something from the front of the bus. When he returned, he tackled Zexion and stuffed several bills into his pants.

Zexion shrieked and grabbed the nearest weapon, which happened to be a pillow, and brought it down on Demyx's head. Demyx collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles. Zexion did _not_ put the pillow back down; instead, he used it as a shield while he fished the money out of his underwear.

"I'm only worth $38?" he asked. "Honestly Demyx, that's just insulting."

"I figured six bills at once was about all I'd be able to get in there in a hurry."

"You're lucky I didn't wind up with a paper cut," Zexion groused, handing the money back to Demyx and burrowing under the blankets before Demyx could further violate him. "If you must know, I started wearing these when Melody was learning to walk. There is nothing quite as embarrassing as having a small child pull your boxers down when she's trying to hold onto your leg for support, except possibly having that child face plant when both your boxers and the pants you're wearing over them come down under her weight." He sighed. "I went out and bought bikini underwear the next day."

Demyx crawled into the bed after Zexion, still grinning. "I bet you did," he chuckled. "She seriously pulled your pants off?"

"During a dance class, yes. She'd been fine sitting on the sidelines for weeks, but the day she picked to toddle out there and grab me was the _one_ day I was wearing sweats instead of the pants I was supposed to be wearing. I flashed the _entire_ class and had a screaming child with a bloody nose on my hands. I quit the class and made sure I didn't wear anything easily removable until she was walking steadily."

"You're both adorable. Come here."

"I am _not_."

"You are. Now come and snuggle already."

Zexion muttered something unflattering under his breath and squiggled close enough for Demyx to grab him around the middle and pull him close, nose pressed into the fine hair at the nape of his neck.

"You took your medicine, right?"

"Mmmhm."

"Need anything else?"

"_Sleep_."

"'kay." He stretched a little to kiss Zexion's temple. "G'night."

"Goodnight."

"Love you."

There was silence from the warm body he was spooned up behind for a few long moments, and Demyx began to worry that he'd said it too soon. Then came a soft, shaky exhalation.

"Love you," Zexion whispered, so soft Demyx almost missed it.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

They drove into a thunderstorm the next day, driving up winding mountain roads and through valleys so green in the wet dimness that they almost glowed. In every little town they came across, they stopped and ran through the rain to find souvenirs and locally made food (like herbed goat cheese, which was good, and maple honey candy, which wasn't). Zexion got a little loopy on the daytime formula of his cold medicine, which might have had something to do with the way they spent almost half an hour in the playground of a little elementary school in the rain, chasing each other up and down the slide, hanging from monkey bars, and seeing who could get further when jumping off the swings.

Afterwards, they huddled in the back of the bus, shivering and soaking wet, trying to get out of clothes so drenched that they had almost become one with their skin.

"Here. Let me help." Demyx managed to peel Zexion's sweater off of him without taking the shirt underneath with it, then removed the shirt, which came off with a sticky sort of noise. He started in on Zexion's jeans without Zexion trying to stop him, working the heavy material down and off and…that was a lot of bare skin, pale and pebbled with goose bumps. "Cold?" he asked softly.

"F-freezing." Zexion hopped on one foot and then the other, tugging his socks off. Down to just his underwear, he wrapped his arms around himself and shivered while Demyx stripped as well. Then he squawked in surprise when Demyx shoved him, making him fall backwards onto the bed. "Hey! Wh- ah, Demyx, what…nnnnh…"

Demyx fell on him in a moment, hands roaming wherever they pleased, mouth on Zexion's throat, his collar, his lips, nipping and kissing eagerly. Zexion writhed under him, pale skin rapidly taking on a flush of color.

"Just warming you up," Demyx chuckled, sliding one hand under Zexion's head to steady him while Demyx kissed him silly.

Zexion melted under the attention, squirming to get a hold on Demyx as well, making small, mostly muffled noises and trying to pull Demyx even closer to him.

In the shifting, moaning, rather damp tangle that they became, Demyx eased his fingers under the edge of Zexion's underwear.

Much later, after the sex and the obligatory scolding (mostly variations of 'I'm going to get you _sick_ you idiot' strung together with a few 'how unromantic can you _be_'s) Demyx laughed and kissed Zexion and told him that they were in fact parked in the lot beside a church and had been the whole time, which prompted hysterical, mortified laughter that lasted until they both fell asleep for a bit.

It was still raining when they got back on the road, Zexion curled into his seat under an extra blanket. He was wearing one of Demyx's shirts under the blanket, and he dozed with a smile on his face, one hand poking out from under the blanket to hold Demyx's whenever the road's curves allowed.

They had to turn around in the middle of the next day, since the arranged babysitting would only last for five or six days and Demyx wanted to take 'the long way' back home. Zexion sniffled and sighed and teased Demyx for just wanting to get them lost so they could spend a little more time alone.

And he jinxed it. By nightfall, Demyx had no idea where they were. He also found the situation terribly funny, and rolled around on the bed laughing while Zexion stood over him, trying to look serious in a t-shirt three times too big for him and a weird cowlick from how he'd been napping earlier in the day.

"It's _okay_," Demyx managed between gasps for breath.

"It is _not_ okay!"

"Sure it is."

"Demyx, I have to get home! I have to work, and my daughter-"

"Is fine. You can call her if you want."

"I absolutely cannot- what?"

"Call her. You know, on the phone?"

"But you left mine at home."

"I have mine, doofus. I'm not dumb enough to just vanish into thin air without a way to call for help. What if something had happened?"

"But something _has_ happened."

"Something serious." Demyx rummaged under the bed and came up with his phone, which he tossed to Zexion. "G'wan. Xaldin an' Saix are listed under The House of Pain."

"The what?"

"Larxene's a dominatrix. Seemed like a good name for the place."

Zexion went pale and sat down quickly. "You left my daughter with a _dominatrix_?"

"No, I left her with two guys who happen to have a dominatrix for a roommate. And honestly, Zex, she's not a sicko or anything. She even likes kids sometimes."

"_Sometimes_?"

"Just call her. And lemme talk to one of the guys when you're done."

Zexion wound up sitting on the bed, comfortably settled against Demyx's chest, while he spoke to Melody, squirming slightly as Demyx's fingers skated over his chest and stomach under his shirt. Demyx was grinning.

"Alright, sweetheart, sleep well. Mmhm. Love you too. Sweet dreams. I need to talk to Xaldin, okay? Thank you. Goodnight. Stop that, Demyx, I'm- ack! Get your hands out of- hello? Xaldin? Demyx needs to- ggh! Goddamnit, stop that or you aren't getting laid tomorrow! Yes, here he is." Zexion scrambled out of Demyx's lap the moment he had a chance and stood against the opposite wall, arms wrapped protectively around himself, while Demyx talked to his friend.

"Hey Xal. Yeah, we're fine- Zexion's got a cold, but 's not bad. How're you doing? Uh-huh…that sounds great. Listen, we're kind of lost, so if we're a day late, don't worry, 'kay? No, no, I'm serious. I have no clue where we are. Nah, I take that back, I'm pretty sure I know what state we're in, but I could be wrong. Nope, not hearing banjos out there, but I've been listening just in case. Yeah, we went through there yesterday afternoon. 's raining, of course we didn't. You too? Wow, big storm. 'kay, if we can't figure out where we are and how to get back by then, we'll call back. Thanks. Mmm. You too. Bye." He snapped the phone closed ad put it back in the little drawer it had been stowed in. Then he rolled onto his back and grinned at Zexion. "Come to bed, babe."

"No."

"Why not?"

"You are a villain and a deviant, and I am sleeping in the passenger seat." The problem with this declaration was that Zexion would have to get past Demyx to get to the front of the bus, and Demyx had no intention of letting him get by.

"Uh-huh. And how do you plan on doing that?"

"Like this." Without another word, Zexion opened the rear door of the bus and stepped out into the rain. He hurried around to the front of the bus, grasped the door handle on the passenger side…and found that Demyx had locked up in preparation for bed. Wet, shivering, and rather pink with embarrassment, he returned to the back of the bus and scrambled inside again. Demyx was still sitting on the bed, watching him with an amused expression.

"Finished with your little escape attempt?"

"Yes."

"Thought so. C'mere, lemme warm you up. Better take those clothes off, they're all wet now."

Zexion sighed and stripped, then crawled onto the bed. Demyx grabbed him rather unexpectedly and hauled him under the blankets, smothering him in kisses and hugs until he sneezed in the blonde's face and managed to get some breathing space while Demyx made disgusted sounds.

They did eventually make it back home, three days later, by which time Zexion was feeling mostly better and Demyx had started to sniffle. Another storm was rolling in over the mountains behind them, wind blowing them down the highway. Zexion was holding Demyx's hand again, thumb moving over the back of it slowly.

"When did you start liking me?" he asked softly.

"Hm?"

"I doubt you just suddenly decided to pursue me. What got you interested?"

Demyx blushed. "Uh…there was this reading my ex dragged me to. A play, y'know? He said it was going to be good and that I should come listen to it with him. And I was all set to just sit there and maybe take a nap, except…you walked in. I thought you looked kind of out of place, and I told Axel, and we laughed about it. Then you started talking, and…I just forgot about everything. It was just your voice until the whole thing was over."

"Not the reading in February?"

"I think it was then, yeah."

"Ohhhh _no_, Demyx. You _didn't_."

"Didn't what?"

"Didn't actually fall for me reading that god-awful piece of drivel."

"I thought it was good!"

"It was terrible."

"The audience seemed to like it."

"The playwright certainly didn't."

"The wh-" Demyx's eyes widened. "You…you?"

"I wrote it, yes. And trust me, it was terrible. If a friend hadn't found it and showed it to the theatre people before I could stop him, I would have happily remained anonymous and would not be dreading the performance this winter."

Demyx burst out laughing, earning himself a rather annoyed look from Zexion.

"_Seriously_? You write?"

"It's a hobby," Zexion mumbled, his ears bypassing pink and going straight for red. "I picked it up in high school. Never meant to _do_ anything with it, but I enjoy it, and then Marluxia found it and…well, here I am, involved with you because you liked my stupid play."

"Funny how the world works, huh?"

"Mmmhm."

"It really is a good play, Zex."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is."

"No, Demyx, it's terrible."

"I'm serious, babe, it's pretty damn good. The theatre department doesn't produce just anything."

"The theatre department is biased because Marluxia likes my work and he has a great deal of clout."

"I've met him. He's in charge of costumes and stuff. He has no say in what gets performed."

"But-"

"It's good and you know it, now just get used to being a semi-famous playwright."

Zexion sighed and looked up, eyeing the first few raindrops spattering on the windshield. "Storm's about to hit," he said softly. As if agreeing with him, a fork of lightning lit up briefly off to the left.

"Uh-huh. Wanna go play in the rain some more?"

"We're going to be late if we do."

Demyx flicked his turn signal on and swung them into a different lane, aiming for an elementary school up the way.

"Demyx, no, I mean it, we're going to be late, we don't have _time_ for this."

"We have all the time we need."

"We do _not_-"

"Say the storm slowed us down." Demyx chuckled and switched the radio over from the station it had been on. They picked up static, something in Spanish, more static, and then it came in loud and clear: Like the Rain, by Clint Black.

A slow smile spread over Zexion's face.

"I suppose we could say that," he said softly.

Demyx grinned and pulled into the school parking lot. The playground equipment gleamed dully with the first raindrops.

Zexion beat him to the swings.


End file.
